To Kill a Mockingjay
by Narnialuvr98
Summary: Snow has a proposition for Katniss, and warns of the consequences should she refuse. Katniss turns him down, and when Prim, then Peeta, then Gale go missing, Katniss must figure out what to do. "Oh Miss Everdeen. It's the things we love most that destroy us."


**Here's something that's been in my google drive for awhile now, and I know it's not finished but I wanted to let everyone know I'm still alive...RR!**

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The crunch of the snow under my feet is welcome. The chill wind that carries the scent of pine and bites my nose, turning it red as a cherry, is welcome. I have long since abandoned the gloves my mother made me promise to wear in this January weather, the same January that freezes the lake, and causes water droplets from the branches of Evergreens to be instantaneously frozen into picturesque icicles. The weather is so rigid that even buried beneath fur and endless layers, my body shivers with every passing breeze. Even so, these breezes are welcome. A sudden rustle of branches breaks my train of thought as a doe exits the safety of a nearby Evergreen. I slowly, but surely, lift my bow, arrow at the ready. I pull the string back until my finger is set in its place by my jawbone. I breathe a deep breath, and release the arrow. The doe just avoids the arrow when it suddenly dives and sprints off into the safety of the deep forest. I turn, my heart thumping in my chest, as the crack of the branch echoes through the trees. I stand as frozen as the picturesque icicles, waiting for the one guilty of scaring off my doe to show themselves. I wait. And wait. But no one steps out. Hunting in these woods is a crime, it always has been, and I can not shake the feeling that whoever was responsible for the loss of my kill was someone I do not wish to meet. I could be executed on a daily basis, hunting in this forest. Regardless of the fact I am a victor. After a few more motionless moments, I began to tell myself it was just another animal. Maybe a squirrel scurrying across the forest floor in search of nuts. Or maybe it -

"Hey, Catnip."

Or maybe it was Gale.

"Gale!" I can not hide the relief, or the annoyance, dripping from my voice. "You scared me half to death! I thought you…."

"You thought I was what?" He asked, his words dissolving into the air in frosty clouds.

"I thought you...weren't you," I finished, embarrassed by my tone.

"Ah, don't worry about that," he says, taking a few steps towards me. "We're fine. They've never caught us before have they?"

No, they haven't. He hasn't. I am thankful everyday that I'm not imprisoned in one of President Snow's dungeons. Doubtless he has dozens. A single, lacy snowflake floats down from the heavens, swinging this way and that, until it lands on my cheek. This single is followed by another, then another, until soon the whole wood is being slowly blanketed by the oncoming snow. Gale looks up, and breathes a sigh.

"We should probably head back."

I nod. My fingers are freezing, and I have been hunting for a number of hours. My mother will want the two squirrels hanging from my belt.

The scent of apples and pastry mingled with the fragrance of cinnamon is welcome, beckoning me to the kitchen the moment I open our big, wooden door in the Victor's Village. Apple pie, my favorite. A small smile escapes my lips as the warmth of my home envelops me. I enter my kitchen and sling my bag of game onto one end of the table stretching across the room. Covering the far end of the table are half a dozen pies, my mother's gift to those that require treatment. She never manages to make these gifts during the Christmas season, being so busy, but always gets them to her patients within the following weeks.

"Hi Katniss," Prim smiles at me as she removes yet another apple pie from our oven.

"Hello," I return the smile to the only person on this earth I am certain I love.

As I turn to remove my belt of rabbits, I see a third person standing in my mother's kitchen. He mixes ingredients in an old wooden bowl my mother has had in her possession for as long as I can remember. Mother would have been foolish not to request his help.

"Hello Peeta."

The moment those two words leave my mouth, Peeta's whole person stiffens, and his usually graceful movements becomes robotic.

"Hi," he manages to say.

Things between us haven't been extremely friendly as of late.

"I'm going to go change. I'll be back to skin the squirrels in a few minutes."

I grab my jacket and flee up the stairs.

When I enter the bedroom I share with Prim, I abandon any thought of changing clothes and instead put my jacket back in its place on my shoulders. This January cold is nothing compared to the icy blizzard present in my kitchen. I am unsure whether it will ever thaw.

"Katniss?"

Prim's voice wedges its way under the door and into my ears.

"Are you in here?" She pushes open the door and joins me on the bed. Even though the house has room for Mother to bear at least three more children, Prim prefers to share a room with me. And how can I object? It is comforting to have someone to console you when you wake, screaming, from a nightmare full of multi-colored mutts, poison berries, and horrific shrieks. Something a blond someone downstairs knows all too well.

"Are you ok?" she asks.

I nod my head. Prim knows that relations between me and Peeta are strained at the moment. She must have seen the wall between him and me during our awkward conversation. I do not feel like thinking or speaking of the boy with the bread anymore.

"How was your day?" I change the subject with ease. It is something I have mastered. "Did you use every apple mother had on hand?"

Prim's slender lips part in a smile and her golden braid falls over her shoulder as she nods her head. Her laugh is delicate and pure, like the Primrose for which she was named.

"She insists that no one go without a pie this year," Prim continued. "The batch downstairs is the second."

My eyebrows shoot up. "How did she gather so many?"

"She enlisted the help of all the seam children. She promised anyone who helped the first pick of pies and no child yet has denied her. It's almost like she's running an orchard."

I laugh, although the mention of orchards reminds me of Rue, the angelic, small tribute I failed to save in the games. Prim seems to sense a change in me because she begins,

"Katniss, it wasn't your fault - "

Suddenly the door flies open and Peeta stands motionless, eyes wide, and hands shaking. I jump to my feet, instinctively placing a hand protectively on Prim's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" I demand. Something is different, dangerous, about my home. A new scent has mingled with the familiar and I can nearly place my finger on it.

"Someone - " Peeta's voice breaks. "Someone is here to speak to you."

I silently exit the room, motioning for Prim to stay in the room. As I round the doorframe, I see a guard dressed in complete black.

"Stay with her until I get back," I plead with Peeta. "Please."

He gives a slight nod of consent, his eyes still wide.

I now know who has come to speak with me and my suspicions are confirmed when I enter my living room. Roses. That is the scent I can now recognize. Coming from a single, pure white one protruding from the lapel of President Snow's tidy, clean-cut jacket. I might consider welcoming the scent if it was not from him.

"Miss Everdeen," he motions for me to sit on the couch next to my mother. I can tell from her rigid posture and clenched jaw she is terrified. I am too, although I have once again wiped away the emotion from my face.

"Peeta says - he says you wish to speak with me," I say, cursing myself for the shaky quality of my voice.

"I do."

He sits in silence for a brief moment, one eyebrow arched.

"Well?" I whisper.

"I hesitate," Snow begins, "because you are not going to like it."


End file.
